


What happened to our dvd player: According to John Watson

by Myr



Series: Between the Cases [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myr/pseuds/Myr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is bored and wants John at home, by any means necesary. Even if that means wrecking the dvd player.</p>
<p>This is what happened according to John.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	What happened to our dvd player: According to John Watson

**Author's Note:**

> Companion fic to the Rp ShippingOrange and I did and posted "What happened to our Dvd player" , and to her version " What happened to our Dvd player: according to Sherlock Holmes"  
> Can also be read separately.

His Phone buzzed in his pocket and he looked up from the report he was writing. A text from Sherlock. Of course... The man should've been watching a movie, but ofcourse movies were not worth his while. Bored. You couldn't even leave him alone for an afternoon, even when there was actually a case. He texted Sherlock that it was important and that he should watch it anyway, but he already knew that it wouldn't be of much use. Just moments later his Phone went of again. Okay, maybe he had been ignoring Sherlock a bit long before. He just hadn't stopped to think that he had been ignoring the man. It al felt so like...before lately. But then the man was complaining about forgotten initials at the bottom of his text and he couldn't help letting out a deep sigh as he typed a snarky remark back.

He knew he was too harsh on the man sometimes, but he couldn't help it. It had been a good while since he had lost the most important thing in his life, but every time he thought about it, fear, anger and pain welled up again inside of him. He shouldn't blame Sherlock, he had only been trying to save him, but- 

 

"Bzzz" The man was still whining about the movie. Sometimes he really was a pain in the ass. Too bad life had showed John the very hard way that he couldn't go without him. He tried, he even got married, but not long after Sherlock came back, she dumped him. He couldn't blame her. Or sherlock, if he was honest. It was just his own fault that he couldn't go without the interesting life that came with Sherlock Holmes. But now he was just beeing irritating. Lestrade even asked for it personally because the murderer seemed to have reeinacted a scene from it to the letter. 

 

He decided to try to convince him one more time, but naturally, Sherlock wasn't one to give in, and he almost immeadiately got a text back. 

 

Johm froze. Bloody bastard was leaving and asking to borrow his gun. This wasn't going ro end well. Furiously he started to type a text back. Who knew what he was going to do with it. Nope. No way. If he had to go home for it, the yard's next body would be a familiar detective. And after he pushed send, he realised what had changed. He couldn't trust Sherlock unconditionally anymore. He just couldn't bring himself to it. He knew Sherlock had no deathwish and would...probably not shoot someone, but...It would take some time to rebuild the trust. As he stood up to put the papers he had been working on in his bag, he decided he would try to work on it. He didn't like that he felt so protective, obsess-No, that sounded wrong, even in his head. 

 

But with the next text that came back, his intentions melted as snow before sun. He grew paled, and put his hand on the door to keep standing. Then he slowly slid down with his back against the door. "Maybe I'll jump again." Maybe I'll jump again. Maybe I'll jump again. The words kept echoing trough his head. How could he say this? He knew Sherlock wasn't suicidal, so it must have been a joke, but then it really was the worst one ever made. 

 

This was a moment he wanted to break Sherlock's nose again. His shock had faded into Anger and fuming he typed his reply. The asshole really didn't care for anyone. How could he ever believe that over and over again. Sherlock just said the right words when he needed you, but once again this proved he didn't give a fuck about other people. Not even about John. How could he be so stupid to follow the man everywhere. He almost broke the send button and threw his phone to the other side of his office. 

 

Taking in deep breaths, he tried to calm himself. Sherlock not caring for anyone's feelings and saying horrible things was old news. Suddenly he realised that it hurt so much because he himself cared so much for Sherlock. And he could hit himself. Preferably until he passed out. He had a patient in five minutes, he couldn't handle this right now. Fuck Sherlock. This was getting ridiculous, he should stop letting the man rule his life. 

 

So John stood up, dusted of his clothes and sat behind his desk again. He took a minute to calm himself but another text from Sherlock had him repeat the process trice. Sherlock really didn't understood. He couldn't say he cared about him right after that other text. And the innocent subjectchange on a repainted smiley and Mss. Hudson really showed he didn't even realise he had hurt him. He should really go back to ignoring him. 

 

After his next text, Sherlock realised at least that he was angry, but still didn't understood what he had done wrong. He just couldn't deal with him anymore right now. He had reached the state "Calm eye in the middle of a typhoon" And simply texted him that he was going to live with Harry for a while. Not that he had asked yet, but he would find someplace. And he didn't care that he sounded as mean as sherlock could when he replied to Sherlock who stated that he would be bored with "At least I wouldn't have to deal with you." 

 

His intentions were to put the phone away and concentrate on work. But 5 minutes after he got a text back, he couldn't resist anymore. Picking uptje phone and switching it on, he read the text and sighed again. Sherlock didn't like Harry. Sherlock didn't care about anyone but his own entertainment. Again his rage flared up. What was the bloody ass even thinking? He knew he really shouldn't be ragetexting but he couldn't help it. it was infuriating. The person he cared most about, and only in his rage could he admit it to himself, dreamed about, almost lived for, was the biggest unintentional dick in the universe. John knew Sherlock really couldn't help it, but that's what made him sad and angry. He...loved Sherlock so much, and the man wasn't even capable of caring. Almost like one of these stupid drama novels they sold for some pennies. 

 

He threatened to punch Sherlock in the face but the man never got the hint to shut up. '*I* Need you here' Ofcourse the git only cared about himself. "What do I need to say to say to get you here." Did he even knew what basic human behavior was? 

 

And then the son of the bitch said he missed him and that he was his best friend and with please and all. He almost begged him to come home. And half of him melted and wanted to run home, but the other half asked himself with a nasty voice on what site Sherlock had googled that. No. He couldn't say that right after what he said before, that is not how friendship works. And he texted him exactly that back, ignoring the side of him that wanted to save the message and cherish it forever. He also added that he was staying another hour, wich seemed wise, because he still hadn't done much and he still had to calm down some more. 

 

And when Sherlock got all dramatic and said he was his only friend and whined that he didn't want to watch alone, John realised he had said all those things to piss him of enough to make him come home. Even Sherlock should've realised it wouldn't have been to watch a movie but to punch him in the face. Apparently even that would've been better as watching the movie to him. Wich was still really really unaceptable. And even though it made him feel better inside it didn't changed a thing.

 

Sherlock apparently sensed the shift in mood because he went back to childish nagging. John wondered if he even read his texts, he had clearly statef multiple times that he wasn't comming home yet, even though he had given up on the "living with Harry" idea (Though Sherlock didn't need to know that yet.) 

 

One of the other doctors came in asking if he could take over one of her patients and aply a plaster cast. While he was busy with the child Sherlock informed him that something had happened to the DVD player and they exchanged some short text in wich was made clear that Sherock.wasn't going to tell himbif he wasn't comming home, and fuck you, John was busy and his shift was almost over. 

 

That he texted exactly those words was a coincidence, but when he let the child out and checked for new messages, the most unexpected and un-Sherlocklike message awaited him. 

 

"I thought you were straight, but if you really want to fuck me, as long as you stay out of my sock index." 

 

John sat in stunned silence for the next five minutes. The filthy thought had invaded his brain and made red creep up his cheeks. Did Sherlock just- He could picture it way too well inside his head, he an-No. Must've been a joke. But Sherlock doesn't joke like that. What did it even matter, he was straight for god's sake! He shouldn't have filthy thoughts about his flarmate who juat proposed to have sex with him. No, no no! He pushed the thoughts away and grabbed hia phone. Three missed texts from Sherlock asking if he was still there. He couldn't think of an answer so he just made a lame comment about how innapropriate that had been. 

 

Looking at the clock he realised it was really time to go homeso he grabbed his coat and bag. Seemed like Sherlock was already over his statement, since he went back to nagging about comming home. Must've been a joke after all. Going out he texed that he was on his way. He was still having trouble with clearing his head of the immages it had provided with Sherlock's text, and he hoped that by the time he got home Sherlock wouldn't notice anything. 

 

When after some more nagging he was almost at the corner of Bakerstreet, he got another text from Sherlock saying that it didn't matter anymore, Lestrade called, and he went to Scotland yard. John felt like banging his head against the nearest wall, but he surpressed the urge, and when he was at Bakerstreet front door, he realised it might be better that he could avoid Sherlock for a little longer. He might have had some difficulties with looking him in the eye.

And when he entered 221B, he realised that it was REALLY a good thing Sherlock wasn't home right now. Both the DVD playerand his DVD were a total wreck. If Sherlock HAD been here, he really would've had that fist. Enraged again he send Sherlock one last text asking for an explanation, before he goes upstairs and calls it a day. And if Sherlock asks him to come to the yard, he ignores it for the man's own sake, because he knows he'll regret it in the morining if the next case that comes in is the strangled body of Sherlock Holmes himself.


End file.
